Calling It An Early Night
by IReadAndWriteSometimes
Summary: A fluffy one-shot involving our favorite couple.


Hi, guys, remember me? It's been ages since I posted anything, I know, but that's only because my partner in crime, MajorCFan, and I were (and still are) busy working on a monster prompt for you. MC's cancellation, however, temporarily slowed down our progress as we took a few days to process the incredibly disappointing news. Part of that process for me involved taking to writing something fluffy. When I first started thinking about what exactly to write, in light of MC's unjust cancellation, naturally, rather dark ideas crossed my mind, but by the time I got round to actually writing something, my longing for the aforementioned fluffiness took over and this poured out of me. As always, my beta, MajorCFan, had a little hand in this, so I would just like to take a second to thank her for her help.

I hope you enjoy this, or even better, it puts a smile on your face.

* * *

 **CALLING IT AN EARLY NIGHT**

Her lips quirked up into half a smile, clearly reluctantly as the rest of her features struggled and failed to remain impassive when her eyes landed on him sprawled in their bed. He had bunched up their covers at the bottom of the bed, and laid down on his back, his hands folded on top of his stomach and his feet crossed at the ankles. It didn't help that his eyes deliberately raked over her nightgown clad body before he shot her what could only be described as a filthy grin.

"Well, hello, there," he greeted her playfully, not that there was much need for a greeting. She had only been in the bathroom for 10 mins, and they had spent the past few hours together.

She pursed her lips, not wanting to give in to the giddy feeling that had washed over her and had finally replaced the nervous and melancholy energy that had coursed through her for the past couple of weeks leading up to today. She shook her head at him and rounded the bed to finally join him on her side of the mattress. Her resolve was crushed when her eyes landed on the little object that, if she was being really honest with herself, she hadn't spared a single thought in the last fifteen years or so, and suddenly, her happy emotions bubbled to the surface. She flopped down on the bed and squeezed his thigh excitedly, almost desperately really, because she wasn't sure how else to express just how delighted and touched she felt at the moment. "I can't believe you kept this all these years." She let go of his thigh, and lay down to her side, propping her head on an elbow as she considered him for a moment, still very much in awe about what he and the Major Crimes division had gifted her. "I am pretty sure you all despised me back then." She ran her hand across his chest, then tapped it a single time, while adding, "Especially you and your partner."

Andy caught her hand and rolled over to his side, supporting his head with his other hand, mirroring Sharon's position. He grinned again, lazily this time. "'Despise' would be a harsh word," he told her, loosening his grip on her hand and letting his thumb stroke over her fingertips. She scoffed and raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed and more importantly, unconvinced, so he added, "Fine, can we settle on 'hate'?"

Sharon laughed, then on an eye roll said, "Let's."

He grinned again. He'd been doing that a lot lately, ever since she made her decision, but today, after making it final and official, he was grinning even more. Although they both knew he would have liked to, he hadn't pushed her for it, and it had gone without saying that Sharon would do this on her own schedule. Putting his sometimes personal, purely selfish feelings aside, he wouldn't want to have it any other way.

She had retired today. An hour ago, they had returned from the farewell party her now former colleagues had thrown her. It was a bittersweet send-off, but one that had been a long time coming. After all, she had spent the past several years making sure the new additions to the team could handle the job and that their new head could handle them both.

Andy had been waiting for this day ever since he decided to retire himself. He had collapsed on a scene one day, a couple of years after his heart attack. When he came to, he was greeted by the red-rimmed eyes of his wife, panic written all over her face. It was a panic he had unfortunately become very well acquainted with during the course of their relationship, and usually they would both bounce back, heal, recover and resume their lives. That time, however, Andy realized that he didn't want to do that. He hadn't had a heart attack, which he found out fifteen minutes after already making up his mind, but he knew it would be a long time before he was allowed back into the field, if ever. Quite frankly, by then he had started entertaining thoughts of a simple, quiet life that wasn't ridden with late night or early morning callouts to scenes of death or kidnappings, so he told her right then and there he was calling it quits. Initially, she had protested, wanting to make sure he was doing it for the right reasons, but when it became clear that he was, she supported him through the entire retirement process, much like he had done now during hers.

Pulling out of his thoughts, Andy realized they had lapsed into silence. "Where are you?" he asked Sharon, squeezing her hand, drawing her out of her own musings.

She smiled almost ruefully. "In the hospital, the last time you," there was a slight scolding note in her voice, "scared me half to death."

To her surprise, Andy chuckled. Usually when she mentioned his last hospital stint, he profusely apologized for putting her through that—again.

"What?"

"I was just there myself," he said simply.

She hummed that hum of hers that always made him want to kiss her, so he leaned over and did exactly that. He smiled against her lips when her hum turned into a low, content moan.

When he pulled back, she said, "Sorry it took me so long to join you on this side of our careers."

He shook his head. "Sorry I took my partner out with me." His cheeky smile made him seem anything but.

She laughed again. It was true. Provenza had been horror struck when Andy dropped his news in the squad. He had spent a good fortnight trying to talk him out of it, but Andy's mind had been made up, and once that finally sank in, Provenza had announced the same decision. Of course, he had wrapped it in talk about how he no longer had reason to stay on the force since Andy would no longer need him as a babysitter, and Patrice was nagging on him about retirement anyway. Perhaps there was some truth to it, but they all knew that despite making a deal not to ever retire with the Chief of Police himself, he had been entertaining such thoughts much longer than Andy had, so Andy's announcement merely gave him the push he needed to finally do it.

"And besides," Andy added with a one-shoulder shrug, "you know I'll always wait on you."

Sharon pursed her lips again, but her smile spread across her features anyway. "You are such a cliché sometimes, you know that?"

He inclined his head and smiled smugly. "I do."

"Oh," she let out, extracting her hand from his and smacking him lightly over the shoulder. "So," she said, the word announcing another change in topic as her hand proceeded to slowly trail a path down his upper arm, "how did I not know about this?" She tilted her head back, indicating the present that adorned her nightstand now.

"I'm that good," Andy deadpanned, then barked out a laugh at his joke. "Okay, okay," he added, when Sharon's hand stopped its journey and she just glared at him, not finding him quite as funny as he did, "to be honest, I actually completely forgot about that."

A small, puzzled frown appeared on Sharon's brow. She hooked her index finger underneath his T-Shirt's sleeve to tug on it lightly before pulling her hand back completely, and replied questioningly, "Yet it survived all these years."

"Well, yeah," Andy said, wriggling his shoulder a little to straighten out the sleeve Sharon disturbed. "It was at the back of my desk drawer in the murder room, and I only stumbled upon it when I was clearing out my desk."

"That still doesn't explain how I never saw it," Sharon said. "We do live together," she added pointedly.

Andy smirked, and said suggestively, "We do more than that." When she just shook her head at him, he grew more serious. "Provenza took it from me as a souvenir."

Sharon's jaw dropped. "What?"

Andy laughed, reaching a hand out to make a show out of pulling her jaw back up. "Mhm," he hummed affirmatively, taking a second to run his thumb over her cheek, "in an insane moment of sentimentality," his voice was dripping with sarcasm, "he decided he'd like a reminder of the horror he worked with for more than a decade."

Sharon laughed. "I'm touched," she drawled.

"You should be," Andy said seriously, dropping his hand to her side. "How long have him and I been partners?" he asked rhetorically. "All I got from him when I retired was 'good riddance'."

"And yet," Sharon's voice took on an amused, melodious tone, "I think I might just have seen more of him here after the two of you retired than while we were all still working together."

"Are you implying that's a good thing?" Andy asked, wide-eyed.

Sharon ignored his question. "You know," Sharon said, in mock contemplation focusing on her finger running up his forearm, "how the two of you even reached retirement together might just be the LAPD's biggest mystery yet."

Andy threw her a bland look. "Ha-ha," he said sarcastically.

Ignoring his mock indignation, Sharon went on with her little interrogation. "If that was a reminder for him," she tapped his forearm in pause, "how did it end up with me again?"

"Honestly?" Andy asked and went on when Sharon nodded. "He said he may not have liked you back then," his voice softened when on a side-note he paused to add, "he claims that he's still not sure whether he does," he rolled his eyes, then continued on, "but that," he looked over Sharon's shoulder at her nightstand, "was when you first earned some of his respect."

Touched, Sharon smiled, but said, "I thought that was the first time he was actually afraid of me." That had almost been his literal words a few hours ago.

Andy chuckled. "Oh, trust me, we were all afraid of you after that," he assured her. "Still are, I think," he added, as if only just then realizing that.

With confidence only someone who earned the right to have, Sharon said, "I can be scary when I want to."

"Oh, trust me," Andy's voice dipped low, "I know."

Sharon lifted an eyebrow purposefully, and her own voice went low as she almost ominously said, "Good."

Andy laughed and squeezed her side lightly. "How do you feel now?" he said, a touch of worry in his words. He had of course picked up on the whirlwind of emotions she had been dealing with ever since turning in her retirement papers.

Sharon smiled brightly. "Happy."

"Yeah?" He had hoped for that to be the case, suspected that it was, but still his face lit up when she finally confirmed it.

She cupped his cheek and leaned forward. "Yeah," she repeated mockingly before kissing him. "A little sad, too," she added, when she pulled back. "I will miss it."

"You sure you're not just being overly controlling?" Andy teased with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

She narrowed her eyes at him and argued confidently, "I have complete and utter faith in Mike filling in my shoes and taking care of the team. Both old and new members."

"Heels," Andy corrected, smirking.

Raising both eyebrows, Sharon repeated questioningly, "Heels?"

"He has to fill in your heels," Andy clarified, then burst out laughing at the mental image that suddenly summoned to his mind. "Tao in heels," he managed through bouts of shaking laughter.

"I thought Rusty was the comedian in the family," Sharon deadpanned, deliberately not laughing with him, even though she did find the image rather funny.

"Gets it from me," Andy said nonchalantly.

Sharon laughed and rolled onto her back, her laugh ending on a content sigh. "So," she turned her head to look at Andy, "what does a retired police officer do?"

"Remain being a police officer," Andy said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Sharon rolled her eyes at him, although he wasn't that far from the truth. He may have retired quite a while ago, but he was still often buried in piles of paperwork preparing for court appearances to testify in past solved cases that had only now reached trial stage. He grumbled about it more often than not, but in reality he liked that it kept him busy every now and then. It also helped to make him feel like he was still doing something important, even if he quit chasing down criminals himself every day. It was something she will be doing, too. "Besides that," she said pointedly.

"Oh, I don't know," Andy pretended to think, rubbing a finger over his chin and scrunching up his face in an apparent struggle to come up with something. "Play with Provenza?" He waited for Sharon to laugh like he knew she would and went on more seriously. "There's our kids and grandkids to enjoy, there are vacations we can take that we never could because of police work, there are Dodger games that won't get interrupted by dead bodies." He paused and looked at her again. "Need I go on?"

Sharon smiled and closed her eyes as she turned her head toward the ceiling and clasped her hands together on top of her stomach. Even though this wasn't the first time they discussed the wonderful pros of retirement, on a hum, she said, "Please."

Andy grinned, loving to see her this relaxed. "How about having a decent breakfast, lunch _and_ dinner every day?" Sharon hummed again, obviously enjoying that idea. "What about sleeping in whenever we feel like it, or," he scooted closer to her and draped his arm over her, pulling her toward him, "turning in early whenever we want?"

Sharon smiled and opened her eyes to find him smiling back at her. "Remind me again why I didn't do this when you did?"

Andy laughed. "Because back then you'd have gone crazy doing all this ordinary people crap."

Sharon untangled her hands and wrapped them around Andy's forearm. "I really would," she admitted, that indeed having had not sounded at all appealing to her then. "But now, I can't wait to do," her eyes glittered with amusement, "all this _ordinary people crap._ "

"Good," Andy dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose, "because tomorrow night we're having a family dinner out and it includes all our kids and grandkids."

Sharon's eyes went wide and she extricated herself from him. "All?" she said, sitting up slightly by propping herself up on her elbows.

"All," Andy confirmed on a nod and a smile. "Ricky and Emily are due here at noon actually."

"No," Sharon said incredulously. She had talked to them earlier that week and made plans to properly celebrate her retirement in a couple of months when they could both take enough time off to come down to LA. As it dawned on her what Andy's announcement meant, she frowned, not that she was really mad or angry, and muttered, "I taught them better than to lie to their mother."

Andy burst out laughing. "You also taught them all about a little thing called 'sense of occasion'."

Sharon smiled happily and lay back down. "I did indeed," she confirmed proudly. She then turned toward Andy again and asked, "Did you cook this up?"

Andy shook his head and said honestly, "It was a joint effort."

"All our kids and grandkids?" she asked, still not quite believing it.

"Mhm," Andy confirmed on a nod. "Prepare to enjoy the most ordinary of crap tomorrow night," he announced jokingly.

She lifted her hands and put one on each of his cheeks to pull him down. "There is absolutely nothing ordinary about that, Andy," she said before planting her lips on his in a passionate display of gratitude. "Thank you."

Andy drew his shoulders together humbly. "I've learned a bit about your sense of occasion, too, my dear."

She squeezed his face excitedly. "You did," she said, proud once again.

"Learned from the best," he quipped, then shifted on the bed to lie down properly on his side. "Ready to turn in early now?"

She grinned, and rolled over onto her side, turning her back to him. "The sooner I do, the sooner I'll see Ricky and Emily," she mumbled, scooting back closer to him.

He pulled the covers over them, then wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Well, kill the light then, Commander."

"Yes, Lieutenant," she said on a light laugh, reaching her hand out to turn off the lamp on her nightstand. Just before the room was enveloped in darkness, her gaze landed on the item her colleagues had not only kept so long, but had gone through the trouble of securing in the middle of an elegant frame. She smiled and intertwined her hand with Andy's that was splayed across her stomach.

"If I got the beanbag," she started quietly and waited on the hum she knew would come, letting her know he was listening, "does that mean what I think it means?"

"That he stole your nameplate?" Andy mumbled into her neck. When Sharon packed up her desk, that particular item had mysteriously vanished. He knew where it ended up, and he kept it to himself more out of amusement and curiosity than out of loyalty to his partner. He had been waiting to see how long it would take Sharon to figure it out. That she did in less than half a day did not surprise him.

"Yes?" Sharon urged him on.

Andy squeezed her tightly, his chuckle muffled in her neck. "He's a sentimental old fool, Sharon."

"You still afraid of me?" Sharon suddenly asked, making Andy lift his head a little to try to make her out in the darkness.

"Of course," he confirmed, slightly confused.

"Good," she said, snuggling into him a little more, "because I can't believe you let him!"

Andy groaned and dropped his head back on his pillow. "I love you?"

"Mhm," she hummed ominously. "Good night, Andy."

She failed to hide her amusement, so with renewed confidence, Andy kissed her hair and squeezed her hand. "And you love me, too," he concluded.

More insistently, although her words were rendered harmless by the fact that she tugged on his arm and wrapped it more tightly around her, Sharon repeated, "Good night, Andy."

Andy laughed. "Good night."

 **THE END**


End file.
